


What Kind of Touch?

by CanisLore



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27941507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanisLore/pseuds/CanisLore
Summary: Inspired by Elwensa's AU, "New Soul."
Kudos: 11





	What Kind of Touch?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Elwensa's AU, "New Soul."

Henry didn’t recognize this place. It was dark and cold, but despite the lack of light, he could see himself fine. 

His hands itched. Henry looked down at the skin of his palms and fingertips marred by swirled scars. The longer he looked, the more he could swear the scars were moving. 

The lines writhed and seemed to rise off his skin. Then, to Henry’s horror, the scars split open and spilled blood. 

Veins appeared on his hands and arms in the same pattern as the golden ink, but they dripped with a vile crimson. Henry tried to shake the blood off, but more replaced it. His effort to stem the bleeding only sent spikes of pain through him. 

“Henry?” 

A small, pained voice made Henry turn. Bendy knelt at his feet, the little devil clutching his chest. He stared up at Henry with agony in his eyes, “W-why? I th-thought you… wanted me.” 

Henry glanced down at his closed fist. Something gold was trapped behind his blood-soaked fingers. Dread sank through him as he opened his fist. 

A small gold light flickered in his hand. Was that… Bendy’s soul? 

Henry reached for it to try and put it back, but the red liquid had a mind of its own. It started clinging to the soul, smothering it in a web that threatened to crush it. Henry’s attempts to pull the web away only worsened it. 

Henry then pulled his hands away, not wanting to let the soul be hurt anymore, but the motion pulled some invisible thread. 

The blood web cinched and shattered Bendy’s soul. 

Bendy let out a wail. 

Henry immediately fell to his knees and tried to apologize, but the hand he laid on the demon’s shoulder pumped blood across the ink body, pulling and twisting it until that old beast cowered before him. 

The grotesque creature whimpered before sprinting off into the darkness. 

Henry took a step to follow, but a familiar shadow froze him in place. Sharp horns and a broken halo loomed over him. Henry felt a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately lashed out, whipping blood off his hands. 

The attack struck Allison across the eyes. 

She recoiled and fell, clawing at her face. “Ahh! What did you do?” she screeched. 

The angel wept, rubbing at her eyes, “Tom?” she called, “Tom where are you? I can’t see!” 

Henry again tried to apologize, reaching for the wounded woman. 

A metal hand seized his wrist. Tom glared Henry down and curled his lips back in a furious snarl. Henry tried to explain, grasping at Tom’s painful grip with his other hand. 

The blood spiderwebbed across Tom’s metal arm, turning it to rust in an instant. Though the red lines didn’t stop, writhing up the remaining arm and reducing it to nothing but a few ink splatters. 

Henry and Tom stepped away from each other, Henry in horror, Tom in pain. Tom stood over his downed wife, a steeled determination to protect her overtaking the pain of losing the rest of his arm. 

“Henry, what have you _done_ to us?!” 

Henry turned once more, finding Sammy standing there, a hand clutching at his chest. 

Sammy was breathing heavily, the ink on his face running so freely, it threatened to cover his eyes again. His mask and shirt were missing, granting Henry full view of Sammy’s pained expression, and of the bleeding crimson handprint on his chest. 

Henry took a step forward. Sammy frantically staggered back, reaching a hand out to him, “S-stay back! You’ve brought enough of this curse on us!” 

Henry shook his head, at a loss for words. This wasn’t supposed to happen! He was supposed to use his power to help them! 

He tried once more to reach his friend, but Sammy backed up farther. “Stay back, you… you… _false god!_ ” His voice began to deepen and warble to the tenor of the Prophet, “You promised us _freedom_! _Salvation_! Yet you have only brought us to _damnation!_ _You LIAR!!!_ ” 

Leaving the last word to sting Henry’s heart, Sammy turned and ran. 

Henry followed. He raced after the fast-retreating form, though realized he had little hope of catching up. 

He lost sight of Sammy. Of everything. It was just him, the dark, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue and the sound of its red drops splattering the ground with every step, and the growing despair in his mind. 

Then he came upon a door. 

Without breaking stride, Henry flung it open and stepped through. 

The entry hall of the studio greeted him. 

No. 

_“Alright Joey,”_

No. 

_“I’m here.”_

No! 

_“Let’s see if I can find what you wanted me to see.”_

Henry finally found his voice. 

“No! Not again!” he begged, turning and pounding on the door, leaving splatters and smears of red with every strike. “I’m not a liar! None of that happened! Please!” He sank down against the wood, “Please, not again. Don’t leave me alone again.” 

He covered his mouth as tears spilled from his eyes. 

He sat like that until a cold shadow approached him. 

A thin, twisted shadow with curved horns. 

**“Creator.”**

Henry turned. The Ink Demon stood before him. That frozen smile hid fury. 

Henry sobbed and shook his head, “No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

**“Traitor.”** The Ink Demon reached for Henry, hands clawed. 

A part of Henry’s mind said all of this wasn’t real. He’d barely had the thought before he was seized by the throat and pinned to the door. Henry gagged for air as the Ink Demon hissed in his face. **“Everything you touch will burn. Everyone you love will bleed.”** Its grip tightened, **“You Traitor.”**

The Ink Demon sank its claws through Henry’s chest. 

Henry awoke with a yell. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” Linda sighed, “You weren’t waking up!” She took hold of Henry’s cold, clammy hands, “Honey, it’s okay now. You’re awake, you’re home, you’re safe.” 

Henry suddenly yanked his hands back, “No! Don’t touch my hands!” He tore himself out of bed, despite Linda’s questions. “I can’t touch anything! The blood, it-...” he sank down, holding his head between his forearms, “Everything I touch… I can’t be trusted.” 

Linda knelt by her husband’s side and hugged him. “Well, I trust you. And I’ve known your hands long enough to know they make miracles. Look,” she beckoned Bendy, who had slipped in when he heard Henry’s yell, “Would this little darling be around if your hands weren’t capable of good?” 

Henry studied Bendy, considering Linda’s words. Slowly, carefully, the man reached for his creation, gently laying his hand on the side of Bendy’s head. 

Bendy laid his hand over Henry’s. He didn’t like the frantic pulse he could feel through his creator’s fingers. “It’s okay, Henry,” he said, “I know ya always do yer best ta do good! An’ she’s not wrong with ya hands makin’ miracles!” 

Henry let his hand fall, staring through his palm and the scarred flesh. “I-...”

“One more thing,” Bendy hugged Henry, “I trust you, too.” 

It took a few more moments, but Henry finally accepted that everything he’d seen had just been a dream. His hands weren’t spilling blood and destroying what he cared about. He wasn’t alone again in that sepiatoned time loop. 

He was home. He was safe. He was trusted. 

And as he hugged his wife and toon, he knew that he was loved. 


End file.
